


Little Town of the Dead

by tigerlady (shetiger)



Category: Eureka
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode-like, Halloween, Other, gen-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-30
Updated: 2009-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:39:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shetiger/pseuds/tigerlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eureka loves its holiday celebrations, but Halloween this year is turning out a little spookier than everyone expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://spook-me.livejournal.com/profile)[**spook_me**](http://spook-me.livejournal.com/) challenge. My prompts were 'ghost' and 'City of the Dead'. Thank you to [](http://kageygirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**kageygirl**](http://kageygirl.livejournal.com/) for betaing, and to [](http://ozsaur.livejournal.com/profile)[**ozsaur**](http://ozsaur.livejournal.com/) and [](http://dustandroses.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://dustandroses.livejournal.com/)**dustandroses** for hosting the challenge. It was fun!

Something glinted in the backyard.

Allison stepped closer to the patio door, breath misting the glass as she tried to figure out where the light might have come from. There was no moon to speak of, and it was too late in the year for lightning bugs. It could have been from the headlight of a passing car, she supposed, light bouncing off the wooded hills behind her house. Or maybe a reflection in the glass of the door itself. It was probably nothing to worry about.

She slid the door open anyway, and stepped out onto the deck. Even without moonlight, she could still make out enough to tell that the tiny square of lawn was empty, other than the small coordination-enhancing playset and the electromagnetic particle box with its outdated robo-construction sets. She'd been so insistent, back when they were looking for a place, that Kevin have space where he could play outdoors, just like a normal little boy. But Kevin rarely played out here, not anymore. Maybe she should get rid of the play area. Put in some roses, or maybe a simple wooden swing hung from a branch of the old oak tree that marked the line between lawn and woods. Except if she did that, then she'd have to admit that Kevin was growing up, and she wasn't quite ready to do that yet. Not after everything she'd been through this year.

Allison rested her forearms on the weather-roughened railing and sucked in a deep lungful of the evening air, heavy with its smells of decaying leaves and damp wood. Nathan had loved this time of year. Not that he would ever admit it, at least in so many words. But he was always in a better mood in the fall. His best suits would come out, and every now and then she'd catch him whistling as he did yard work. And in the evenings, especially after they were first married, he'd tempt her out here with the promise of a cup of hot cocoa. He'd pull her onto his lap, sharing his warmth, and they'd stare out at the red-gold hills that flanked the house while the sun set beyond them.

A breeze kicked up, rustling the dry branches and leaves around her and spiking the skin of her arms from the chill. Allison roughly brushed away the wetness on her cheeks. Yes, she missed Nathan, and there were good memories here, memories that made her hesitant to change the layout of the yard, but that was no reason to linger out here in the dark without a jacket when she should be upstairs in bed. She had a teleconference with the Joint Chiefs first thing in the morning, and it wouldn't help her case any to face them with puffy eyes. She turned towards the door, determined to leave her melancholy mood out here with the memories.

Leaves crackled behind her. Not like the wind-driven rustle of before. It sounded like someone was slowly crunching their way across her backyard. For a second, Allison hesitated with her hand on the latch, wanting to pull the door open and flee inside. But if she did that, then she wouldn't know for sure that her imagination was running away with her.

A twig popped, loud like it was snapped between two strong fists. Allison spun around, heart racing. She edged back towards the balcony rail, peering out into the yard and the woods beyond. It still looked empty of any living presence--but it was dark. Too dark to be certain of anything.

"Hello?" she called out. Maybe it wouldn't have been the smartest move in a large city, but they didn't have peeping toms in Eureka. They did, however, have experiments that escaped the confines of their labs on occasion. "Taggart, is that you?"

She held her breath, waiting for a response. It was her imagination. It had to be. Or maybe a clumsy raccoon, one that hadn't figured out yet that Eureka's trash cans were impenetrable to even the smartest little paws. "Jim, are you hunting something?"

Wood creaked as someone set foot on the deck stairs.

Allison reached for her phone as stealthily as possible. Jack would tease her if her visitor turned out to be Mrs. Gunderson's grumpy old cat, but his eyes would be warm and worried, telling her she did the right thing. And if it wasn't a cat...

The stairs creaked again. Allison took a step backwards, feeling for the door handle with her left hand as she opened her phone with her right. She slid her thumb across the keys, searching for the call button by touch. She'd just found it when a head appeared above the railing.

A head she knew very well.

"Kevin!" she said, more sharply than she intended. She shoved her phone back onto her belt and hurried over to him, a different, more familiar fear speeding her feet. She caught his shoulders with both hands, turning him so he was facing her. "What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be in bed!"

He looked up at her, and for a moment she thought they connected. But then his gaze dropped and he pushed against her grip, trying to turn back towards the yard. "It's not a logarithmic problem," he said.

"What-- Are you talking about the project you're working on with Henry?" It was actually a project Nathan had started with Kevin, shortly after the Artifact had been removed. Henry had stepped in shortly after Nathan's death, though whether it had been his idea to do so, or some prior arrangement of Nathan's, she still hadn't had the heart to ask. Either way, the once a week meetings were Kevin's favorite, and he always came home full of random mathematical statements that she had no hope of deciphering.

Kevin nodded. He stopped trying to pull away, and simply raised his right arm and pointed out into the dark. Towards the particle box, she thought. "I tried and it didn't work."

"It's okay, baby." She drew him in for a hug that was more for her benefit than his. He let her, but as soon as she loosened her arms, he moved away. She almost stopped him again, but instead of heading back towards the stairs, he slipped behind her to open the door to the house. He went inside without looking back, apparently uninterested in whatever had caught his attention in the first place.

"Okay, then," she murmured, then smiled at herself. She must be spending too much time around Jack if she was starting to sound like him.

Another breeze kicked up. Allison rubbed her forearms. She should get inside herself, make sure Kevin was actually in bed. But her earlier fear had faded, and there was something about the night that just felt...right. She closed her eyes, letting herself feel the quiet power of nature all around her. The way the wind touched her cheeks with butterfly softness, and how the scents of fall seemed to be layered with a thousand different spices, like the way cologne always smelled so much more complex when it was on a man's skin.

Allison huffed out a sigh as she opened her eyes. She definitely needed to go to bed if her imagination was that far out of control. She went back inside, making sure the lock was set on the door, and then turned towards the stairs. She needed to check on Kevin.

Only her subconscious took note of the foggy handprint on the glass door--the one that was much too big to have been left by her or Kevin.

* * *

Jack kept his foot heavy on the brake as he eased into his usual parking space in front of Café Diem, gaze torn between safety and the activity that was going on above him. Somehow he'd managed to forget that the end of this particular month was the end of _October_, and that meant the residents pulled out all the stops for Halloween. Probably because Zoe had been so busy, between her job and her studies, that he hadn't heard her mention any party plans at all. Or at least he hoped she hadn't mentioned any plans. He was going to be pissed at himself if in a moment of inattention he'd agreed to let her have a massive party at the house.

The Jeep rocked into place. Jack slid the gear into park and set the safety brake by rote, then jumped out and slammed the door behind him. He craned his head back and shaded his eyes with his hands.

"Hey, Henry! How's it going!"

"Jack!" Henry leaned over the edge of his hover-cherry picker and waved. He'd obviously had a busy morning already; half the block was covered with the decorations he was putting up. Cobwebs dripped from the Café Diem sign, and a thick mat of creepy vines covered the front of the building. "Give me a second." He turned back to the sign, doing something to the 'M' that Jack couldn't make out. Then the cherry picker started descending, slowly bring Henry back down to street level.

"Not bad, Henry," Jack said more quietly this time. "Going for a more natural look this year?"

Henry chuckled. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet." He held up his giant universal remote--the one that made Jack worry about the 'universal' part of the name--pointed it towards the sign, and hit a button. Jack took a step back as the front of the building shuddered like the San Andreas stretching its toes. Before he could start yelling for people to run for it, everything was calm again. Sort of.

Where the welcoming facade of Café Diem once was, there was now a two-story inn, the wooden planks that covered the front greyed and sagging. Shutters groaned and flapped against a nonexistent wind--those that weren't dangling by a single nail, anyway. The vines still webbed over the front, but they had changed. They looked alive now--alive in a very frightening way. A deep blood-red veined through the green of the leaves, and so many thorns projected from the stems that they looked scaly. The pièce de résistance was the Café Diem sign. Instead of the bright white script, the name was scrawled in shivery black paint across a simple wooden board. Cobwebs still draped its length--only now there were giant black spiders spinning the threads.

Jack whistled. "Wow. You guys have really outdone yourselves. Looks like something straight out of **City of the Dead**."

Henry grinned. "Thanks. I'm still not quite happy with the sign. Kind of...blends in too much."

"I dunno. I think it really works well with the whole theme." Jack reached out, but he paused with his finger an inch away from the angry vine. Despite what half the town thought, he was capable of learning from experience. "So, how did you do it? Nanites? Super-grow fertilizer paint? Mass hallucination?"

Henry chuckled. "Nothing so complicated." He swung his hand out, past where Jack had stopped, and curled his index finger around one of the vines. Everything else flickered out of existence, leaving the bare wall of Café Diem behind Henry's hand. "It's all holographic. There are millions of micro-projectors on the vines and webs. That's why it looks so realistic."

"Impressive."

"You know us. Always aiming to be bigger and better." Henry patted him on the shoulder, then held up the remote again. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have to finish the rest of the street so I can head on over to the school. The kids' party is tomorrow afternoon, and this is going to knock their little socks off."

Jack laughed. "I'm sure it will." He waved as Henry began his ascent, then shook his head. Eureka was one heck of a town.

"Hey, Dad," Zoe called as soon as he stepped clear of Café Diem's (very scary-looking) door. She threw him a quick smile as she zipped by carrying a tray full of Vinspressos and what looked like cherry-smothered crepes.

"Hey, sweetie," he called back, but her attention was already on a table in the back of the café. He was so proud of her, doing all the amazing things she did--but some days he missed his baby girl. He watched her for a moment as she chatted with the trio she was serving, but his attention was drawn to the wall behind them. Café Diem didn't just look like a spooky old inn on the outside. Dark oil portraits in heavy frames had taken the place of the bright knick-knacks and shadowboxes that were usually on the wall, and they had their fair share of spiderwebs as well. Candles flickered in tarnished brass sconces, and one of the wood panels oozed something suspiciously dark. Fake though it was, he was still tempted to call out the health department.

"Good morning, Sheriff," Vincent said. "The usual?"

"Please." Jack smiled at Vince as he bustled away to work his magic, then stepped closer to the counter. After a second's hesitation, he slid his leg over one of the barstools, ignoring the sight of his thigh passing through a high wooden back that wasn't normally there. He figured it be best to go by touch rather than sight for the next day and a half. Though the sight was definitely impressive. The effect was beyond set of a horror movie; he actually felt like he was inside a horror movie. The guy standing near the restrooms in a black cowled robe was really a standout. Jack narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out if he was a resident in costume a day early or if he was actually part of the decorations.

The front door opened with a long, aching creak. Jack swiveled around in time to see Jo roll her eyes at it.

"Hey," he called, amused by the grimace that didn't fade as she crossed the room. "All set for your favorite holiday?"

That lit up her face. "You better believe it," she said, giving her utility belt a satisfied smack. "I am completely stocked on the latest in crowd control and anti-terrorism devices." She pulled out a small wand, no thicker than her pinky. "This puppy is amazing. It vaporizes any matter that's been introduced into an organic system within an operator-determined time frame. Leaves everything else in the system completely intact."

Jack mulled that one over. He'd definitely been doing this job for too long now, because he was pretty sure he understood what that meant. "So, you're thinking an end to toilet paper in trees?"

"Exactly." Jo flipped the wand around with a practiced twirl and slipped it back into her belt. "And if they give me any gruff, they can say goodbye to whatever candy they've managed to wheedle out of people."

Jack snorted. "Just remember they're kids, okay? It's all about having fun."

Jo gave him that 'how many times were you dropped on your head' look he'd gotten so used to. "Hey, I'm fun!"

Jack didn't even bother to open his mouth. There was just no safe response to that statement. He was saved from having to search for a safe subject by the loud creak of the door. They turned together to see who the newcomer was.

"Well look who's back from sabbatical," Jo murmured.

"Hey, Diane," Jack called. She smiled warmly at them as she stepped up to the counter, not showing any sign of the grief that had driven her to take a few months away from Eureka. Of course, she'd had that same warm smile when she'd nearly brought on the seven plagues in an attempt to find a doorway to heaven. "Back for good?"

"Hello, Sheriff, Jo. Yes, I think so. Spending some time with my sister was good, but I missed my work." She smiled wryly, like she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Don't worry. I tore down all the portal equipment before I left and sent it to recycling. Even if I were tempted to try again, it would take me years to reconstruct everything."

"Oh, well." Jack nodded meaninglessly. "Good to know."

Diane brushed his hand with hers. "I guess that wasn't as reassuring as I meant it. I'm doing much better, honestly. I finally figured out that trying to run away from the pain just made it worse."

Jack nodded. "Easier said than done, though, right?"

Diane sighed. "So very true. But I have my faith, and my friends, and so I'm going to keep moving forward."

Zoe stepped forward then, pad and pen poised for Diane's order. Jack turned forward just in time to catch Jo's amused eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nothing." Jo kept grinning, though. He waited her out for a couple more seconds, and sure enough, she broke. "It's just... You should have seen your face when she brought up faith. Looked like you couldn't decide whether to make a break out the back or huddle under a table."

"Very funny."

Jo shrugged. "It's interesting, though. How talking about God makes you so nervous."

"I'm not nervous, I'm--" His phone rang at the perfect time; Jo probably wouldn't have ever forgiven him for what he was about to say. He smiled sweetly at her as he flipped it open. "Carter here."

"Jack, it's Allison." She sighed, sounding more put-out than worried. One of _those_ calls, then. "Can you come up to GD? Something's going on with Fargo, and I really don't have time to untangle it."

"Great. Sounds like fun." Vince showed up just then, Vinspresso in hand. Jack scooped it up with a nod of thanks. "I'll be right there."

"Thanks," Allison murmured, sounding a little too grateful. Whatever Fargo had done, it had to be closer to the 'painfully annoying' end of the scale rather than the 'world-ending' side. It was probably a bad sign that Jack couldn't decide if he was happy about that or not.

"Allison?" Jo asked.

Jack nodded. "Nothing I can't handle." At least, he hoped it wasn't. Even the simplest Fargo situations could go a little...wacky. "Go on, wait for your coffee. I'll give you a call if I need you."

Jo's smile was genuine; she really did love her morning caffeine. Jack waved to Diane, snuck a kiss to the crown of Zoe's head, and then headed off for just another day on the job.

* * *

Fargo rubbed frantically at his forearms, but he could still feel the goosebumps carpeting his skin. He wasn't cold--or at least he didn't think he was cold. Was that a sign of shock? Not feeling cold when you really were cold? No, it was the other way around. Feeling extra cold when it wasn't actually cold out. So he wasn't in shock. Unless he really was in shock, and he wasn't remembering the symptoms correctly because of that. Maybe he should look them up on the internet--

But no, he couldn't do that, because he couldn't open his eyes. _It_ might still be out there, just waiting for Fargo to give it an opening. If he couldn't see it, then it couldn't attack him. Right? God, he couldn't remember. He shivered again. Maybe he was cold. Cold was a sign of the otherworldly, he was pretty sure. Well, not on Buffy. Except for the one time when it snowed to save Angel, but that was an intercession from the PTB and he was pretty sure it didn't count. Not that there were that many ghosts on Buffy, anyway. He really shouldn't use it as a reference source.

The Ghostfacers crew, on the other hand. They said cold was a sign of ghosts. That and electrical interference. Had his monitor gone all funky beforehand? He couldn't remember for sure, but it must have. Maybe he just hadn't noticed.

"Here he is," Dr. Blake said. Her heels clipped sharply across the marble floor, followed by a duller set of footsteps. Fargo squeezed his eyes more tightly.

"Hey, Fargo." That was Sheriff Carter's voice. Gentle, safe, confident, just like he always sounded when something bad was happening. "How's it going?"

Fargo shook his head quickly.

"Come on, buddy. I can't help fix it if I don't know what the problem is."

He sounded so sure of himself. Fargo really didn't think it was a fixable problem--but Carter had never failed. Well, except for saving Dr. Stark, and he was pretty sure Dr. Stark wouldn't have let himself be saved. So maybe...

"Is it still there?" he whispered.

"Is what still where?"

Taking a deep, bracing breath, Fargo slowly cracked one eye open. The sheriff was squatting in front of him, looking at him with friendly concern. He didn't act worried about anything attacking from behind. Of course, maybe that was because it was invisible to Carter. Fargo opened the other eye; he had to know for sure. He looked slowly from side to side. When he didn't see anything suspicious, he raised his head, just enough to take in the rest of the room.

It wasn't there.

He let out all the air he'd been holding. His legs gave out at the same time, and he plopped backwards onto his ass. The floor was cold through the seat of his pants, cold enough to bring his goosebumps back.

"You okay there, Fargo?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Am I in shock?" He saw the look Carter and Dr. Blake gave each other, but he didn't care. They hadn't seen what he had seen. And since she squatted down beside him and reached out to take his pulse, Fargo figured he forgive her for it.

"Your pulse is a little fast, and you're a little clammy, but I think you're fine," she said. "Could you please tell us what happened?"

Fargo licked his lips. They felt dry and cracked. From getting too close to supernatural energies, probably. He took another deep breath; he needed to let them know what the threat was, after all. "I saw a ghost." He glanced over his shoulder, but the room remained clear, as far as he could tell."

"A ghost." Carter sagged back, so that he was sitting on his heels. He looked over to Dr. Blake. "Is that some kind of technical term? Code name for a project, maybe?"

Dr. Blake shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of. Are you working on something without my knowledge?"

Fargo gulped. He'd forgotten that Dr. Blake could get as scary as Dr. Stark when she was really pissed off. She just didn't get pissed off as often. He shook his head fervently. "No! I swear."

"Okay, and so a ghost is..." Carter prompted.

"A ghost." Fargo looked from one to the other, but they still weren't getting it. "You know, a real, not-live, scary ghost."

"A ghost?" Carter held up his hands and wriggled his fingers back and forth. "You mean with the _ooh ooh oooooh_ kind of ghost?"

"Well, not so much with the _ooh ooh ooooh_ and the," Fargo wriggled his fingers the same way Carter had. "But yes, a ghost."

Dr. Blake and the sheriff looked at each other again. Then they both stood up, almost like they'd practiced the move.

"Hey, I know how it sounds," Fargo said. Ghost sightings within the scientific community were extremely rare, after all. "But I know what I saw. It was definitely a ghost."

The sheriff set his hands on his hips. It was one his action poses, one that meant he was getting ready to do something. That, or leave. Fargo really hoped it wasn't that last one. "Okay, so what did it do?"

"Do? It didn't really do--" Fargo glanced over to his work area, where he'd been sitting when the apparition...apparated. His blood went to ice as he realized his sandwich was missing. "Oh, my God. It stole my lunch."

Carter snorted. "It stole your lunch? So what, we're dealing with Slimer?"

"Slimer?" Fargo shook his head. "I don't know what that is."

Carter stared at him like Fargo was the one with a 111 IQ, then looked to Dr. Blake like she had to know what was going on. "Slimer? Little green guy with a taste for hot dogs?"

Dr. Blake shook her head.

"Oh, come on." He flailed his right hand in Fargo's direction. "I've seen the kind of things you watch. You can't tell me you haven't seen Ghostbusters."

"Oh, _Ghostbusters_." Fargo shrugged. "Sorry, I'm not really into the mid-80s' shtick."

"It's a classic!"

Dr. Blake cleared her throat. Loudly. "Jack."

"Right. Sorry, Allison." The sheriff actually looked a little sheepish. He dropped his arms and started to pace the room, looking around like the ghost had just decided to hide behind the desk. Which it might have; who knew how ghosts thought? Fargo climbed to his feet, ready to make a run for it if necessary. Carter stopped abruptly, staring down into the very mundane trash can beside the desk.

"What?" Fargo whispered. "Is it in there?"

Carter bent over and grabbed something out of the trash. He thrust it forward, towards Fargo's face--which, ew. "The ghost ate your lunch?"

Fargo resettled his glasses and made himself take a good look. Yes, pastrami on rye with a slice of Velveeta was what he'd had today, but that wasn't any guarantee it was his. He crossed his arms and glared at the sheriff, refusing to confirm or deny without all the facts in hand.

Carter sighed and tossed the sandwich back into the trash. "I think we're done here."

"Wait!" Fargo caught Carter's arm. "You didn't believe me with the mummy queen, and remember how that turned out?"

"She wasn't a real mummy!"

"So? That didn't mean there wasn't a real danger."

"He's got a point, Jack."

Carter frowned. "Fine. So what exactly did this ghost look like."

Fargo licked his lips again. He really needed to check to see if the bio-products division had finished the Chapstick upgrade. "It looked like my dad."

"Your dad?" Both of Carter's eyebrows shot up. "Isn't your dad dead?"

Fargo rolled his eyes. "Yes. That's how I knew it was a ghost."

Carter opened his mouth. He held up his index finger, and then shut his mouth again. "Okay, look," he finally said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why don't you write down exactly what happened, and send a copy to Jo. That way we can look into...potential leads."

Fargo crossed his arms. "And what do I do if it comes back?"

"If it comes back? Well, I guess don't do anything your father ever told you not to do." Carter slapped him on the shoulder. "And don't call me."

"But--"

"Call Jo. Don't tell me having her handle it is a problem for you."

Fargo fought down the blush. "No, Deputy Lupo will do fine."

"Good." Carter gave him one last smile, then headed out the door. Dr. Blake looked like she was going to say something else, but then she shook her head and followed Carter.

Leaving Fargo all alone.

He looked over his shoulder again. Still nothing, but that didn't mean it wouldn't come back. The decision wasn't hard. He scooped up his laptop and took off after the other two. "Dr. Blake," he called out. "Can I work in your office? Just for today?"

She didn't stop walking.

"So is that a yes?"

* * *

Allison sighed, staring through the glass window at Fargo building his nest on her couch. The head of consumer development had promised her that the synthetic material would resist stains better than any real leather, but she'd lay odds that he hadn't involved Fargo in the testing phase.

Maybe she should see about a transfer. For the good of GD, of course.

"So, you don't _really_ want me to look into this, do you?" Jack asked. "I mean, come on. Ghosts? The day before Halloween?"

Allison turned away from her office and started walking towards the exit. Jack fell into step beside her, just as she had expected. "Aren't you the one who's always saying that you're the professional investigator? So investigate."

"Yeah, but..." She could practically hear him groping for a way to express the ridiculousness of the situation. "_Fargo_ saw a _ghost_."

"Or something that he took for a ghost." Allison pulled up, turning to face him. "I know it sounds crazy. Believe me, I do. But I've learned that it's better to be safe than sorry around here. I thought you'd have learned that, too."

Jack's face went from incredulous to softly understanding in less than a second. She hadn't meant it like that, but now that he was thinking of Nathan, she was, too. That genii needed to be shoved back in the bottle as quickly as possible. "Look," she said as she started walking again. "Do what you think is best. Just don't write it off because it's Fargo. I really don't want this turning into another mummy incident."

"It won't." Jack kept quiet pace for a few seconds, but she knew it couldn't last much longer than that. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"It's just that you seem a little short this morning."

Allison stopped again. She took a calming breath, trying to relax the tension in her shoulders that she'd woken up with. She _was_ being a little short-tempered, and Jack didn't deserve that. "I'm fine, really. I just don't have a lot of time to deal with these kind of things. I've got a big presentation this afternoon, and I need to get home early so I can put the finishing touches on Kevin's costume for tomorrow."

Jack's eyes were still soft and understanding, but his teasing smile was lurking, ready to flash forth at any second. "Don't worry about Fargo," he said, touching her wrist in quick reassurance. "I really don't think anything is going on, but I'll keep my eye on it."

"Thank you." Some of the tension at the base of her neck eased. Knowing Jack had her back made the difference some days. "I know it shouldn't be a big deal, but sometimes Fargo just..."

"Hey, you don't have to explain." That mischievous smile came out, making his eyes even bluer. "And maybe I could give you a hand with Kevin's costume. I sew a mean button."

Allison snorted. "Do you know how to formulate expanding spider webbing so that it's soap and water washable?"

Jack scratched at his ear. "Um, right. Forgot what town I was in there for a minute."

Allison patted his shoulder. "I appreciate the offer, though. It was sweet of you." She was sure she saw a bit of pink spread across the tip of Jack's ears, but he started walking before she could tell for sure.

"So, Spiderman, huh? Sounds like an awesome costume."

"It is," she said, and it didn't even come out sounding regretful, no matter how much she wished Nathan could be here to see his design come to life.

* * *

Diane pulled the vestibule doors closed behind her. She let her hand rest on the sun-warmed wood for a moment. It had been good to get away, to spend time in a city where she didn't spend every moment tripping over memories of Daniel. But it was better to be back here, where they had built a home together. Where she could immerse herself in her faith and her music.

She pressed her hand hard against the wood, forcing herself backwards and out into the world. She couldn't spend all of her time here, wrapped up in comforting things. Her projects were waiting, and she wanted to order a small thank-you gift for Reverend Harper before starting work. One of the new ever-blooming peace plants for the nave, maybe. Snugging her wrap a little more tightly around her shoulders, she started the short walk towards town.

She'd just turned the corner onto Main Street when a cloud passed overhead. A breeze rustled through the remaining leaves on the streetside trees. Then the cloud was gone, the sun autumn bright again--and that's when she saw him.

"Daniel?" Diane pressed her right hand to her throat, but her voice wasn't the only thing that was shaking. She could only see him in profile, but she'd never mistake his beautiful face for another's. "Please, Daniel--"

But he was gone.

She stared at the spot where he had been for a long time, until her cheeks felt frozen from the breeze on her tears and her throat burned from her ragged breaths. Then she turned back towards where she had come from, gift forgotten as she went to seek out the reverend.

* * *

Taggart hummed to himself as he eased the slide into place. The cloned cells were looking perfect, absolutely perfect. No sign of uncontrolled growth, no aggressive apoptosis. Just beautiful little cells mitosing away in sweet harmony with the universe. He needed to do another DNA analysis, make sure nothing had gone awry that he wouldn't spot under simple magnification, but he was confident that he'd be ready to move on to a live test in a matter of days.

He spun around on his stool--and froze. A particularly fine example of a _Canis lupus_ sat in the corner, tongue lolling as it stared at him.

"Well, hello there," Taggart murmured. He eased off the stool and started inching towards the far side of the room, where the case full of tranq guns was. "Where did you come from, fella?"

The big guy looked perfectly content to hang out in the corner of the room. Its nostrils flared once, then it dipped its head and started snuffling at its hindquarters. Certainly a beauty of a specimen, but he still had no clue where it had come from. And one could never be too careful with creatures of the wild, no matter how relaxed they seemed.

His fingers made contact with the edge of the case. Taggart eased the door open, then lifted one of the guns by touch. He checked to make sure it was loaded with an appropriate dose, then swung the butt up to his shoulder and took aim.

That's when the wolf raised its head. Taggart caught his breath; he'd know that muzzle anywhere.

"Fred?" He let the gun drop to his side and took a step forward. "But...Wilma ate you. I picked up the pieces myself, mate." He reached out, remorse heavy in his heart--but the wolf disappeared like it had never been. Taggart waved his hand back and forth in the space where it had been sitting, but there was nothing. Nothing at all.

"Blimey," he said, dropping to his knees on the empty floor. "I'm being haunted by the ghost of experiments past!"

* * *

Henry chuckled as he flipped the switch on his remote to turn on the last of the projectors. Jack was right; they really had outdone themselves this year. Any strangers who stumbled into town would hit the gas as soon as they saw the old buildings looming around them. He couldn't wait to see it at night, when the ethereal glow effect would kick in. Hell, half of the town's residents would probably be tempted to hightail it out of here.

He aimed the cherry picker towards the bed of his truck, already thinking ahead to the rest of his day. The only decorating left to do was in the school gym, but classes wouldn't be out for another couple of hours. He had plenty of time to grab a quick lunch and spend some time on his most pressing research. Or, better yet, he could get a couple sack lunches from Café Diem and bribe Jack into an hour of chess. Other than quick hellos, they really hadn't spent much time together lately, and he kind of missed his friend.

Mind made up, Henry wiped his greasy hands across the super-efficient microfiber hand towel he always carried, then climbed out of the cherry picker. Café Diem was five blocks down, but it was a beautiful day, bright for fall and only slightly nippy. Nothing like a short walk to put the edge on his appetite.

Half a block away from his truck, he spotted a woman outside Everett's Groceries, standing still in the middle of the sidewalk. He wasn't sure whether she was confused by the altered store front or simply admiring his handiwork. He picked up his pace, hoping for the latter--especially since she seemed to be a beautiful woman. He stared at her profile, trying to figure out who she was. She seemed so familiar, but--

Henry stopped. His whole body froze, unable to move as his brain finally processed what his eyes had been trying to tell him. "Kim?"

He ran. He didn't stop to consider the impossibilities, didn't worry about mistaken identities. He ran, no breath to call out to her--but he wasn't fast enough. Again, he wasn't fast enough. He stumbled to a halt in the spot where she had been, turning in circles as he tried to figure out where she had gone. But she wasn't anywhere. Not anywhere in this universe.

Henry closed his eyes. He counted to twenty under his breath, but it took a lot longer than that before he could make himself release his clenched fists.

* * *

The door to the sheriff's office opened. Jo swiped at her eyes, but there wasn't anything more she could do. She kept her head down, gaze fixed on Guns &amp; Ammo while Carter sauntered into the room. He probably wouldn't notice anything amiss, anyway. Not with good ol' Jo.

"Hey, have you gotten Fargo's report yet?" he asked, tossing folders around on his desk like he was desperate to find something.

"Yeah," she said, then cleared her throat. "Not much to it."

"Yeah, I didn't think it would be. I mean, come on. A ghost? I know we have some weird stuff go on around here, but I really can't believe Fargo saw the ghost of his dearly departed dad." Carter slapped his desk, then turned around to face her at last. "Have you seen my-- Jo, what's wrong?"

So much for Mr. Super Detective missing anything. She cleared her throat again. "I can believe it."

"Excuse me?"

Jo shrugged. She had known he wouldn't believe her, but she knew what she saw. "Fargo. I believe him."

"What?" He folded his arms across his chest and perched one butt cheek on the edge of his desk. "Okay, this you've got to explain to me. Why?"

Jo rubbed her thumb over the corners of the magazine, resisting the urge to shrug again. "I saw my mom."

He didn't say anything for a long time. At least it felt that way. She kept her eyes down, watching the floor until his boots crossed her field of vision. He squatted down as she looked up, and their gazes met in the middle.

"Jo?"

She swallowed. "Just for a couple seconds. I opened the door, and there she was. She looked like she did at my birthday party, when I turned five."

Carter took a breath and let it puff up his cheeks, like he always did when he wanted to ask a question that would hurt.

"I know what you're going to say. But it's not just me." She turned back towards her desk, grabbing her notebook. "The phone's been ringing off the hook all morning. That's where I was headed when I saw her, out to talk to Dr. Epstein. He swore up and down that Linus Pauling was haunting his lab."

"Okay," he said slowly. She had his attention at least, even if he still didn't believe her. "So what are we going to do about it?"

The front door opened again, only this time it slammed hard against the door stop. Henry raced in, looking short of breath and wild-eyed.

"Jack. We have to talk."


	2. Chapter 2

Allison very gently pressed the tips of her fingers to her eyelids. She could feel her pulse beat through the delicate skin, a telltale sign of rising blood pressure. This job was contraindicated for anyone with a health condition. Or anyone who might possibly ever have a health condition. Unfortunately, she couldn't just walk away. Jack might say she cared too much, but frankly, the idea of another Warren King taking the position scared the crap out of her. Which meant she had to deal with problems like these.

"Okay," she said, dropping her hand away from her face. "So what do we know?"

"We've had at least twenty sightings," Jo said. "Including Fargo, Henry, and myself. As far as I can tell, Fargo's was the earliest."

"And everyone saw someone close to them who had passed away?"

Jack shook his head. "No, not necessarily. Dr. Epstein had only met Linus Pauling once, and several of the other reports were of passing acquaintances or public figures. Including Abe Lincoln, although I'm still not convinced that wasn't Vincent in a costume."

She glared at him, but Jack smiled back, unrepentant. "So you think this is all some elaborate prank?"

"Let's just say I'm still not convinced that the dead have risen."

Henry pushed away from the corner where he'd been quietly listening. "If it's a joke, it's a particularly cruel one."

"Yeah, I know." Jack rubbed the back of his neck, obviously weighing his next words. She had to give him that; even when he had a hard time understanding what was going on, he still gave the job his all. "Which is why, if it is a prank, we need to find out who's responsible and stop it as soon as possible."

"And if it's not?"

"Henry..."

"Jack." They stared at each other for a long moment. Henry was the one who looked away, but she was pretty sure he hadn't given in. "Look, I know it sounds unbelievable. But scientists have been coming up with theories to try to explain the other side for hundreds of years. Some very respectable research has been done. It's not an impossibility, not what we know of M-theory and the Akashak Field."

Jack looked to her, then back to Henry. "So you're saying they might actually be ghosts."

Henry shrugged, hands in his pockets. "Maybe. Some people think that a violent or sudden death creates an imprint on the electromagnetic field. Maybe something's happened in Eureka to cause those imprints to gather here."

Jack started snapping his fingers like he was struck by inspiration.

"You're going to make another Ghostbusters joke, aren't you?"

Jack grinned at her. "No, but I knew you had to have seen it."

Allison crossed her arms, frowning at being caught out. "Well, it was a long time ago."

He winked at her, then tucked his ever-present notepad into the front pocket of his shirt. "I just had a thought. I'm going to go check it out. Jo, keep me informed, okay?"

"Will do."

"And _I_ am going to head back to my lab, see if I can come up with anything," Henry said, more or less to anyone who was within earshot. Allison nodded anyway, giving him her official seal of approval before he walked out the door.

Which left her with no plan of action for herself. She should head back to Global, see if she could turn up any projects that might be causing this.

"Hey," Jo said quietly. "You okay?"

Allison shook her head at herself. "I'm sorry. I kind of zoned out there for a bit, didn't I?"

"It's okay. One of those days, I guess."

"Tell me about it." Allison hesitated; she wasn't the type to pry into personal matters, and Jo didn't usually open up a lot. But she knew that sometimes it was better to get stuff out, especially when there was a friendly ear in range. "How are you doing? I know it's got to be tough, seeing someone you've lost like that."

Jo bobbed her head from side to side, lips pursed up as she weighed the question. "I'm okay, I guess. I mean yeah, it shook me up a little at the time, but it's not like seeing her was a bad thing. And really, it wasn't that much different than seeing a picture of her."

Allison nodded. "Yeah, I can see that."

"Besides, it was a long time ago." Jo drummed her fingertips on the desk, then pressed her palm flat. "So, have you seen, um, anyone?"

Allison sighed. She'd been half on guard all day, ever since Fargo told them about his run-in. Even though she didn't believe in ghosts. After the last time, when she'd thought she'd seen Nathan only to have it turn out to be her necklace, she was more fervent in that belief than ever.

But part of her was still looking for him.

"No," she said. "No one at all."

* * *

Jack heard the music before he got the heavy church door halfway open. It reverberated through the empty chapel, filling the space like a very real thing. It wasn't so much that it was loud, although it was definitely louder than any music at a service he'd ever been to, as it was powerful. Something classical, maybe by Beethoven. Something fast and bright and full of life, which kind of surprised him.

Then again, if his suspicions were correct, then Diane had reason to be joyous.

He didn't try to sneak up on her, but her eyes were closed as she played, and there was no way she could hear him. He stood in front of her, waiting until she reached the end of the song. She let her hands relax on the controls, like she could still feel the music even after she finished playing. The smile on her face didn't fade away while she slowly opened her eyes.

Not until she saw him and gasped, anyway.

"Sorry," Jack said. "I didn't want to disturb you while you were playing."

"So you thought it would be fun to scare me instead?" She smiled at him, though, so Jack figured all was forgiven. Which made what he had to ask even tougher.

"Well, gotta get my Halloween thrills somewhere." He turned to the side, looking up at the vaulted ceiling. "You really were really rocking out in here, you know."

She laughed lightly. "I guess I got a little carried away. I've been playing all day, and after a while I got into that place where the music takes over, and I'm just the conduit. It's an amazing experience when that happens."

"Getting into the zone." Jack nodded, then mimed a pitch. "Been a long time since I've done that."

She cocked her head to the side, still smiling at him. "Why are you here, Sheriff?"

Jack sighed. "There have been a number of incidents around town today. People seeing, well, ghosts. Would you know anything about that?"

Diane blanched. It wasn't easy to see, not with the patchwork light filtered by the stained glass all around them, but he'd seen the reaction enough times in the guilty to recognize the other visual clues. She finally pulled her hands away from the keyboard to clasp them over her heart, left hand cradled in the right.

"Diane?"

"I saw Daniel. This morning." She looked up at Jack, and her eyes were longing in the same way he'd seen when she almost stepped into the temporal rift. "Are you saying it was really him?"

"No." Jack dipped his head to the side, a half-shake 'no' as his conscience forced him to be more truthful. "Maybe. I don't know. But I need you to be straight with me, Diane. Have you been doing anymore experimenting? Any...stairways to heaven I should know about?"

"No." She stood up and stepped away from the sound system, wringing her hands as she started to pace in front of him. "No, I promise you I haven't even thought about trying. It just wouldn't be right. I want to be with Daniel again, but he wouldn't want it like that. Not that way."

Jack nodded. "Okay. I believe you. I had to ask, though."

She stopped pacing right in front of him. "I know, Sheriff. But I'm so very sorry for what I did, for endangering Allison and the others like that. I'm not going to make that mistake again."

Jack squeezed her shoulder. "I know," he said. Then he sighed. "Although I was kind of hoping I'd figured this whole thing out. Now I'm back to square one."

Diane laughed, just like he'd hoped she would. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"Thanks." Jack grinned at her, then cocked his thumb towards the doors. "I'll just let myself out."

"Sheriff," she called when he was level with the last row of pews. He turned around, eyebrow raised in question. "You know, just because it wasn't me, doesn't mean they aren't real."

_It doesn't mean they are, either,_ wanted to slide off his tongue, but instead he just nodded and waved goodbye. He didn't understand her faith, but he could accept that it was important to her.

It was only late afternoon, but the shadows were already growing long outside. Tomorrow night was going to be dark, especially if they got the cloud cover Dr. Whiticus was predicting. Jo would have her hands full stalking mischievous teenagers. Jack really wanted to get this situation wrapped up tonight, before he had to worry about whether to cancel parties and trick-or-treating. Zoe would not be happy with him if he made her look bad to the whole school again.

"Zoe. Crap." She'd taken her car into the shop for a tune-up this morning, and he was supposed to pick her up after work. He glanced at his watch--and was surprised to see that he still had two hours until her shift at Café Diem was over. It wasn't nearly as late as it felt. He still had time to make a circuit around town, poke his nose in a few places and see what turned up.

He leaned into the open window of the Jeep and snagged the radio. "Hey, Jo. You there?"

Several seconds passed. He grinned at the wait, visualizing the glare she was aiming at him from across town. "Lupo here," she finally said. "Over."

He waited until he was done chuckling to press the transmit button. "Hey. My lead went nowhere. Anything new on your end?"

"Not really," she said, hardly pausing at all before responding. He was really starting to wear her down. Pretty soon he was going to have to find a new game. "Several more sightings, but nothing different than before. You want me to check them out? Over."

Jack glanced at his watch again. "Yeah. You take this afternoon's group, and I'll get this morning's."

"Gotcha. Over."

"And hey, Jo? If you don't turn up anything, go ahead and head home. I know you've got a big day tomorrow."

"I'm not going to argue with that. Zane said he's got something big for me to try out tonight. Over."

"TMI, Josephina."

"A _gun_, Carter. Although if you call me that again, I will give you a lot more than you want to know." There was a good two seconds of dead air before Jo jumped in with, "Over."

Jack let her hear his laugh this time. Then he dropped the handset back into its cradle--without signing off.

* * *

Zoe pressed her forehead into the cool glass of the window, hoping it might drain away some of her exhaustion. She loved her job, she really did, and it was awesome to be doing well in school, but she really wished that there were a few more hours in the day.

Not that she'd have time to sleep more even if there were. No doubt the teachers would just shovel more homework on top of her.

"Penny for your thoughts?" her dad asked quietly.

"Just a penny?" Zoe sat up, fighting off a yawn as she rubbed the pressure mark off of her forehead. They were already halfway home; she must have been more out of it than she thought not to notice when they turned onto the highway. "Shouldn't you, like, adjust for inflation or something?"

"Okay, two pennies for your thoughts." He glanced a her, shit-eating grin firmly in place. That was her dad, always so proud of his supposed zingers. Zoe rolled her eyes, but he was focused back on the road again. "No, seriously. How was your day?"

Zoe shrugged. "It was fine. Everybody at school was talking about the whole ghost thing."

He looked over at her again. "Did something happen at school? We didn't get any calls from there."

"Come on, Dad. It's not like we're living in the dark ages." Her eyes were getting a serious workout from all the rolling tonight. He _really_ needed to tune into the way life worked around here; it wasn't like they'd just crashed into Eureka yesterday, after all. "Mason's older brother saw their _dead_ dad outside Pasteur's Deli right before lunch, so of course he sent Mason a text. Well, Mason was so freaked out he told Carmen, and once Carmen knew, there was no way the whole school wasn't going to find out."

"Of course not." He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, probably keeping beat with some ancient rock song. "You don't seem too concerned about the whole thing."

"Well, they're not real, right? And you don't seem too worried, so it can't be that big of a deal." She watched his face, but he didn't look like he was trying to hide anything world-ending. "The worst part was Vince totally losing it because he saw Julia Child in the kitchen."

That earned her a shocked glance. "Why, was she his aunt or something?"

Zoe shook her head. "No, he never knew her. But apparently just the thought of her being there gave him performance anxiety like crazy."

Her dad started laughing, and before long she was laughing too, remembering the look on Vince's face as he explained why he couldn't possibly _think_ about coq au Vincent after seeing her. They laughed all the way to the turn-off for the bunker. The Jeep rolled to a slow stop before her dad finally put it into park. Zoe grabbed her bag out of the back, then opened her door and hopped out. She started walking towards the bunker, but something glimmering in the woods caught her eye. She took a couple steps closer, trying to figure out what it was. A breeze rippled through the trees, stirring the leaves. When they settled again, the glimmer resolved into something clearer.

Some_one_ clearer.

A chill swept through her, all the nerves in her body going numb. She vaguely noticed her bag thunking to the ground, but she wasn't about to look away long enough to pick it up.

"Dad," she called out, as loud as she dared.

"Hmmm? What's up?" He came around the jeep, but she could see out of the corner of her eye that he was looking at her instead of where he needed to be. She slowly raised her arm and pointed in the right direction.

Right at Nathan Stark.

"What the..." Her dad took half a step forward, but he seemed as unwilling as she was to get closer. Nathan--the ghost thing--raised his hand, doing that little finger wave she'd seen him do a few times. He was smiling, but it was the saddest looking smile she'd ever seen. Like he knew he was dead and couldn't do anything about it.

Her dad took another step forward. "Stark? Is that you?"

Nathan winked--and then he was gone. No melting mist, no shimmering sparkles fading away, just gone. Zoe let out the breath she'd been holding, then turned to her dad.

"Is that why everyone's been so crazy? That was _way_ intense."

He shook his head, but she was pretty sure he wasn't responding to her. "Yeah, this needs to stop. Now." He pulled his phone off his belt with one hand and scooped up her bag with the other. "Zoe, get in the house. Tell S.A.R.A.H. to lock the door and to let me know if anything out of the ordinary has come up on her sensors."

"But Dad--"

"No buts, Zoe. Go." He handed her the bag, then pointed towards the door. Zoe sighed, but she went. "Oh, and Zoe? Don't tell Lexi about what happened out here."

"She was probably the one who séanced everyone up in the first place," she muttered, but he was already climbing into the Jeep. Zoe swung her bag over her shoulder and headed into the bunker.

If she was lucky, Einstein would show up to help her out with her homework.

* * *

"Fargo."

He rolled to his side, pressing his face more deeply into the mattress underneath him, trying to block out the annoying stripe of light that seemed to be following his face.

"Fargo."

He squirmed around so he could work his trapped hand up to cover his eyes. "Five more minutes, Mom. Please?"

She grabbed onto his shoulder and started shaking him awake. "So help me, Fargo. I am not your mother, and you need to get up _now_."

He opened his eyes fully. He wasn't wearing his glasses, but the back of the couch was so close to his nose they wouldn't have helped anyhow. Dread crept into his gut. He slowly sat up, hands automatically seeking out the feel of heavy frames. He settled the glasses onto his face, and then made himself look.

Sure enough, Dr. Blake was crouched down beside the sofa, glaring at him worse than his mom had ever managed.

"Um. I guess I fell asleep?"

She sighed, then rose out of her crouch with a Faith-like grace. "Yes, you fell asleep." She crossed the room to her desk and started typing something into her computer. "But I need to go home now, see to Kevin. You can't stay here."

"Right, of course not. I'm sorry, it shouldn't have happened. It's just that it's been such a long day--" Because of the _ghosts_. Because he'd seen the ghost of his dad this morning.

Fargo swallowed. He couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep with all the supernatural energies swirling around him. His dad hadn't done anything to him, which was cool, since he hated the thought of being permanently afraid of his dad, but who knew what other angry spirit might have sought out revenge while he was unawares?

All of his equipment was scattered on the floor in front of the couch. Fargo started gathering it up as quickly as he could manage. He vaguely remembered moving it all off the couch so he could catch some shut eye, otherwise he would have worried that a restless poltergeist might have done it.

Dr. Blake finished up whatever she was doing and walked back around to his side of the room. "Ready?"

He tossed the remains of his dinner into the recycling chute, stuffed his reduced laptop into his pocket, and nodded. She turned towards the exit without saying a word, and he followed her out. They were halfway across the foyer when her phone rang. She didn't break stride as she answered it.

"Jack, what--?" She stopped short, and Fargo barely managed to avoid running into her arm when she flung it out, then settled her hand on her hip. He bit his lip, wondering whether to go on ahead or wait until she finished talking, but finally he decided the best thing he could do was to stay.

"Okay, wait. Who did you see?" Dr. Blake frowned; apparently the sheriff was giving her the run around or something. "What do you mean it's not important? I know we haven't spotted a pattern so far, but--"

"Yes, okay, fine. Actually, I was thinking about this earlier." She glanced over at Fargo then. He waved at her, wondering if she wanted something, but she shook her head and went back to her conversation. "I know Henry wants to think that these are some real manifestation, some sign of the other side, but that just seems so complicated."

"No, not Orca's. _Occam's_." Dr. Blake rolled her eyes, and Fargo had to snicker. The sheriff was so very entertaining sometimes. "Listen. You know my necklace. The one from Nathan." She looked over to Fargo again, and he got the impression that she didn't want to talk about this in front of him. Which was fine--he still felt a little raw about Dr. Stark's death. He turned his back to her and wandered towards the middle of the room, giving them both some privacy.

He pulled out his laptop and expanded it to PDA size. He was really impressed by the sturdiness of the second generation prototype; he'd have to remember to put in a good word with Dr. Blake for the development team. And Steve would definitely be excited when he heard about the improvements in the media kit. Google Phone wouldn't have a chance in hell of competing against this.

Fargo glanced over his shoulder, but Dr. Blake was still deep in conversation. It wouldn't hurt anything to indulge in a little motivational viewing. He pulled up the season three opener and flicked through to just the scene he wanted. The scabby-headed hell demon was in the middle of his brain-washing interrogation scene. He stopped in front of Buffy and asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm Buffy. The Vampire Slayer. And you are?"

Fargo crowed out loud. He couldn't help it; she was so awesome as she kicked ass. Not the best outfit ever, but if anyone could work a sweatsuit, it was Sarah Michelle Geller. He shifted his shoulders with every punch she threw, the moves locked into his cerebellum after so many viewings. If he ever encountered a group of nasty hell demons, he'd totally be able to take them on.

"Fargo."

He hit pause and turned around to face Dr. Blake. "I was just--"

Buffy was standing right in front of him. She was poised in a defensive stance, hammer in one hand, sickle in the other, head cocked as she waited for the next attack.

"Jack? I'll call you back. I think I know what's going on." Dr. Blake hung up her phone and stepped forward. Buffy dissolved around her. "_Dr._ Fargo. Tell me. Did you help Henry with the Halloween decorations this year?"

"Um." Fargo gulped. "Maybe?"

* * *

"Look out, coming through!" Zoe yelled. Jack quickly stepped to the side as she swept past him, a tray packed with drinks in her hands. He eyed the smoking tumblers, and decided that just this once, it was probably better not to ask. It was probably dry ice, anyway.

God, he hoped it was just dry ice.

He pushed his way towards the counter, amazed at the number of people packed into Café Diem. The street festivities were still going strong, the bass beat of "The Monster Mash" drifting in through the open door, but apparently Vince's Bat Bites and Crispy Spider Surprise were too tempting to ignore. Not that Jack was going to have anything but a burger, himself. Zoe'd rolled her eyes at him when he asked if the appetizers were really made out of bat and spider, which translated into a 90% chance he was stupid for asking, _of course_ it was bat and spider. The other 10% meant he was _just_ stupid for asking, but he wasn't feeling an urge to gamble with his stomach tonight.

Somebody bumped into him from behind. Jack turned around, and found a short Spiderman staring up at him through the cavernous crystal eyes of the mask. "Hey there." Jack smiled at Allison, who was hovering just behind Kevin. "Looking good, buddy. Catch any bad guys tonight?"

"Just one," Kevin said. He turned around and pointed towards the door. Jack studied the crowd, trying to figure out who Kevin was talking about--and then Fargo stumbled in, arms flailing behind him as he tried to reach the glob of webbing stuck between his shoulder blades.

Jack laughed. "Nice one."

"I tried to explain to him that Fargo isn't really a bad guy," Allison said quietly. She was dressed to the hilt herself, hair swept back by a gleaming gold headpiece and her eyes huge from the Egyptian-style makeup. Quite the Cleopatra. "But I think Kevin was just having fun. It's so hard to tell sometimes."

Jack chuckled. "I think Doc Oc can handle it. Especially now that he's got a little help." He nodded towards the corner where Jo was in the process of scraping the sticky stuff off of one Fargo's very handsy mechanical tentacles. Zane was giving them both a dirty look, but since his gaze kept dropping towards Jo's ass, Jack didn't think it was making much of an impression. "Funny how he just happened to come in that costume, though."

Allison grinned. "Isn't it, though?"

Jack snorted.

"Come on, Mom." Kevin tugged on Allison's wrist. She shot Jack an apologetic smile, and then they slowly made their way back towards the door.

"Hey, Vince!" Jack called once he finally found an empty seat. "Burger me, please."

Vincent gave him the 'you primitive ape' look and started to open his mouth, but Jack held up a warning finger. "Huh-uh. Say a word, and I'll order something _French_." Vince snapped his mouth shut and turned towards the kitchen without another word. Jack chuckled. It was turning out to be a good night. Once they'd gotten the rogue holograms under control, everybody had gotten back into the swing of Halloween without much difficulty. Yeah, a few people had had painful memories reawakened, but no one was hurt beyond that. Rather mild in comparison to some of Eureka's past troubles, really.

"What, no costume?" Henry asked as he slid into the newly empty seat to Jack's left.

"Hey, I figure I wear one every day." Jack plucked at the alien head on his T-shirt. "This is as adventurous as you're going to get from me tonight."

Henry chuckled. "I guess it'll have to do."

Jack waited while Henry gave Vincent his order, then lowered his voice so that no one in the crowd would have a chance of overhearing. "How are you doing, really? I know that seeing Kim must have shaken you up."

Henry sighed. "Yeah, it did. And yes, part of me was wishing that it was really her, or a part of her come to say goodbye. But at the same time, I'm glad it wasn't. I like to think that she's in a better place, where all of this," and he twirled his hand around in the air, indicating more than the crowd around them, "this craziness can't touch her."

"Yeah, I get that." Jack paused as Vince slid his hamburger onto the counter in front of him. He smile up in thanks, and Vince's glare cracked into a tiny smile in return. The burger, of course, was as amazing as always. "What I don't get, though," he said after he swallowed his second big bite, "is what Fargo was trying to accomplish in the first place."

"It was a good idea, actually. He was working on a way to have the projectors display individualized 'spooks,' I guess you could say. Spiders, snakes, goblins, whatever worked for a particular person. He was using a subroutine of the smarthouse program to get it that specific, but he didn't get the database finished in time to put it into practice." Henry snorted. "But he didn't comment out that subroutine properly, so it just grabbed whatever information it could find and ran with it."

"Yeah, S.A.R.A.H. always has had an over-efficient streak." Jack dragged a fry through the puddle of ketchup on his plate, but his appetite had waned a bit with their conversation. The idea hadn't occurred to him until late last night, long after they'd made sure the 'ghosts' weren't going to reappear. He'd told himself over and over he was imagining things, that he just didn't understand the science, but he couldn't shake the thought. "You said that the holograms only appeared where there were projectors, right?"

Henry nodded. "That's the only way they're possible. So here, anywhere on the street where the decorations were hung, and Global, of course. They've got projectors all over the place in there."

"And my place?"

"Yeah, S.A.R.A.H.'s fully equipped with a full range of entertainment holoprograms, you know that."

Jack shook his head. "I was thinking of outside the bunker. Maybe part of the ray gun or something?"

Henry pursed his lips. "No, not that I know of. Hologram technology was considered a little too...passive for B.R.A.D.'s directive." He snapped his fingers and grinned. "That's an idea, though. It wouldn't take much for me to rework the haunted house images into something a little more wholesome. I know you've never really been impressed by bomb-shelter chic."

Jack snorted. "I think I'll pass for now. I've kind of gotten used to it."

Henry slapped him on the shoulder. "Sometimes I worry about you, my friend," he said, still grinning. "Just let me know if you change your mind."

Vince returned with Henry's plate, and they both settled in to their meals. Jack chewed slowly, his mind busy digesting Henry's words. _Not that I know of,_ he'd said. So there was still the possibility that there were projectors somewhere outside the bunker. Had to be.

Nathan Stark would have better things to do in the afterlife than to swing by to haunt _him_, after all.

* * *

Ally quietly closed the door to Kevin's room. He was fast asleep, worn out by his busy night playing protector to Eureka's citizens. The costume had been perfect for him, especially once the web-shooters were working. And Fargo's punishment was the icing on the cake.

Once in her bedroom, she didn't strip off her own costume right away. Instead, she went to the safe next to the bed, the one keyed to her genetic signature, and pulled out the necklace inside. The Logic Diamond necklace that Nathan had given her for their almost-wedding. She carried it over to her desk and inserted it into the reader, watching as his message played out.

"I love you too, Nathan," she murmured. She stroked her thumb across her cheek, but there were only a few tears to brush away. "I miss you so much."

She took a deep breath, then pulled the diamond free. She cradled it in her cupped hands for a long minute, then carried it back to the safe. After she locked it up once again, she pressed a kiss to her fingers and touched them to the front of the safe. "I'll always miss you," she said. "But I'm getting better. I'm going to be okay, Nathan. Be sure of that."

She turned away, heading towards the bathroom to wash the makeup off of her face and to take care of her other nightly rituals. Nightly rituals that no longer included sobbing while she clutched one of his old shirts to her chest. She really was getting better. She had Kevin, she had her work, and she had good people who looked out for her every single day.

Nathan smiled--and let go.

 

THE END


End file.
